How Siegfried Was Bewailed and Buried, I–XXXV

Till nightfall there they tarried, and then the Rhine recross'd; Never yet hunted warriors at such a grievous cost. Many a fair lady sorrow'd for a hart they slew that day; The life of many a champion must for that hunting pay.

Of overweening outrage now must tell my strain, And dire revenge remorseless; the dead, thus foully slain, As though athirst for horrors, Hagan bade bear away, And cast before the chamber where unweeting Kriemhild lay.

He bade his followers darkling down lay him at the door, That she might surely find him, as she stepp'd the threshold o'er. Going forth to matins ere the dawn of day, For from a single service she seldom kept away.

The minster bells were ringing at th' early 'custom'd hour. Upstarted then fair Kriemhild, and wak'd each maid in bower. For light she call'd and vesture that she might straight be gown'd. A chamberlain hasten'd thither, and there Sir Siegfried found.

He saw him blood-bespatter'd, with weed all dabbled o'er; He knew not 'twas his master stretch'd on the reeking floor; In went he to the chamber; with him the light he took, By which on such deep horror sad Kriemhild was to look.

As she now with her maidens to church would take her way, The chamberlain bespoke her; "Lady, a little stay; A murder'd knight is lying close before the sill." "O woe!" cried fearful Kriemhild, "what means this tale of ill?"

Ere yet she could see clearly 'twas her lord who lay there lay slain, The question put by Hagan rush'd to her mind again, How he could guard her husband; then anguish first she felt. From his death for ever with lingering grief she dwelt.

To earth down sank she senseless, that not a word she spoke. There lay the fair, the friendless, beneath that mortal stroke. Then, from her swoon reviving, up from the ground she sprang, And shriek'd so shrill and sudden, that all the chamber rang.

Then said her trembling maidens, "What stranger here lies slain?" From her mouth a bloody torrent burst through heart-quelling pain. "No, no!" said she, "'tis Siegfried, my love, that there lies low. 'Twas Brunhild gave the counsel, and Hagan struck the blow."

Thither where the corpse was lying, her maids their lady led; With her lily hand, all trembling, she raised his languish'd head; Howe'er with blood 'twas dabbled, her lord at once she knew. There lay the Chief of Netherland, a piteous sight to view.

Then weeping thus and wailing the queen her sorrows pour'd; "Woe's me, woe's me for ever! sure no fair foeman's sword Shiver'd thy failing buckler; 'twas murder stopp'd thy breath; O that I knew who did it! death I'd requite with death."

Then wept and wail'd full shrilly her gentle maidens all With their beloved mistress; woe were they for the fall Of their noble master there in his blood embrued. Hagan the wrath of Brunhild had wreak'd with deadly feud.

Then spake the sorrow-laden, "Go hence with your best speed, Quick call up Siegfried's liegemen, his warriors good at need; To Siegmund, too, let tidings of my deep loss be borne, That he may help his daughter his murder'd son to mourn."

A messenger ran quickly, and came where slept the band Of Siegfried's chosen champions from the Nibelunger's land. Their merry cheer his tidings chang'd to sorrow deep. His tale they would not credit until they saw him weep.

Thence quickly came he running where aged Siegmund lay From the king's aching eyelids sweet sleep was far away. His heart, I ween, foreboded the deed that had been done, And that the childless father no more should see his son.

"Wake, wake! Sir King! Sir Siegmund! Kriemhild, my lady dear, In haste hath sent me hither; she's plung'd in doleful drear; Woe, that all woe surpasses, wrings her inmost heart. Help her to mourn the misery, whereof you own a part."

Then said the king, half-rising, "What has happ'd of woe To the fair Lady Kriemhild, which here thou com'st to show?" "Alas!" replied he weeping, "concealment here is vain; The noble Netherlander, Siegfried, thy son, is slain."

Then said the good King Siegmund, "Leave off such idle sport; For my sake spread no further this mischievous report. Were't true indeed that Siegfried my son were made away, Ne'er could I cease from wailing e'en to my dying day."

"If me you will not credit, but still will doubt my tale, Hark then yourself to Kriemhild, hear her so wildly wail, Her and her band of maidens, for noble Siegfried dead." Then sorely shudder'd Siegmund; deep cause had he for dread.

Straight from his bed up sprang he, and his hundred warriors too; Their long sharp-edged weapons with hasty hand they drew. Where they heard the wailing, headlong they thither ran; Thither too Siegfried's thousand, each a chosen man,

Led by the shrieks of horror, ran with like eager speed. Some of the household fancied, they came for funeral weed. Well might they be confounded, and from their senses start. The sting of deadly sorrow was deep in every heart.

Then said the good King Siegmund, when Kriemhild he had seen, "Woe worth our journey hither! would it had never been! 'Midst such good friends and kinsmen, who has this murder done, Which thee hath cost thy husband, and me, alas! my son?"

The noble lady answer'd, "Could I the murderer find, I'd wreak on him such vengeance with all my heart and mind, That all his friends should sorrow at the woful tale, While they had eyes for weeping, while they had tongues to wail."

His arms round the dead champion Sir Siegmund trembling threw; Thereat so loud the sorrow of each beholder grew, That the proud hall of Gunther and the palace high And Worms, through all his quarters, rung to the thrilling cry.

But none there could bring comfort to Siegfried's lady true. Out from his bloodied vesture his comely limbs they drew, And wash'd his wound wide-gaping, and laid him on the bier. Woe were his weeping followers through heart-consuming drear.

Out then spake his warriors from the Nibelungers' land; "Revenge will we our master each with his own good hand This very house must harbor him who has done the deed." Then hasten'd Siegfried's meiny to don their warlike weed.

Now did the chosen squadron each with his buckler stand, Eleven hundred champions; at head of all the band Was seen the reverend Siegmund; to faith and honor true Fain would he take vengeance on those who Siegfried slew.

With whom they were to battle they could not yet discern, Unless it were with Gunther and his Burgundians stern, For with them did Siegfried to the fatal hunting go. When Kriemhild saw them weapon'd, 'twas ill on ill, 'twas woe on woe.

However deep her anguish, however great her need, She fear'd to see her followers the Nibelungers bleed Beneath her brother's numbers; so, their stout minds to bend, She gave them gentle counsel, as friend should deal with friend.

Thus said the mournful lady, "Siegmund, my lord, give ear. What is it you are doing? some rash resolve I fear. King Gunther has about him full many a man of might; You and all must perish in such unequal fight."

Each had bound on his buckler; each held his sword in hand; They yearn'd for blood and vengeance; with prayer and with command She press'd th' impatient warriors to choose the milder part; They call'd for instant battle; that cut her to the heart.

She spake, "My good lord Siegmund, lay thoughts of vengeance by Till some more fitting season; then with you fain will I Revenge my murder'd husband; could I but come to know Who has made me thus a widow, woe should be his for woe.

"Many are the haughty warriors here on the banks of Rhine, So keep peace for the present; such sure advice is mine; The match is too unequal, thirty at least to one; God do to them hereafter as they to us have done.

"Stay here, and in my sorrow be pleas'd a part to take, Mine and my lord's revengers, till day begin to break, And help me then to coffin my lord who there lies low." Then all the warriors answer'd, "Dear lady, be it so."

In sooth it was a wonder that none can tell aright, How wept and loud lamented many a dame and many a knight, That e'en unto the city the rueful wail was borne; In haste the noble burghers came when they heard them mourn.